Rough Skin & Super Luck
by Hikaru7
Summary: Out in the wild, the matter of dinner is of great importance. The reluctant hunter decides to appease his hunger with something other than berries and roots. But when he goes to steal from a dragon's nest, what will he find among the treasures? Is it something edible?


**Notes: **This one is kind of an experimental pre-story to a crossover fic I'm planning to write for some time, based  
on my all-time favourite game Pokémon, and the awesome manga/anime Shingeki no Kyojin. I'm still figuring out the details for that one, so in the meantime, please enjoy this story. ;)

The Pokémon appearing here are inspired by the characters of SnK, so you can take a guess (yes, I like guessing games, and I think they are pretty obvious).

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**Hidden Treasure In The Dragon's Nest**

**The Nestling & The Nest-Thief**

Cautiously, he climbed the steep cliff, his sharp claws digging into the hard surface of the rock, like knife into butter as he ascended towards his destination. He had already observed before that the nest hidden inside a cave on the cliff was guarded by one parent alone. And that parent had to eat, too, even if it meant leaving the nest and its treasures unguarded from thieves like himself.

It was already dinner-time, and as for himself, he was feeling ravenous. A diet of berries and fruits hardly satisfied his appetite. He was a born predator, a hunter. Yet, he had a soft side to him, which made him rather reluctant to eat anything that talked, anything that still had the sparks of life in them. But he wasn't keen on feasting on carcasses, either. No, that was disgusting. Eating raw, once living and moving things was messy, and he hated to get his white fur all dirty, especially with blood.

So instead of hunting down prey, like his species usually did, he resorted to stealing from nests, and he found that he had no objection against eating raw eggs, since those weren't living things yet, and he quite liked the taste. And that evening, the menu promised to be a real delicacy, something he had never tasted before: a dragon's egg.

He had to admit that stealing from a dragon's nest was a dangerous venture, but he trusted his skills and his good luck, and even though it was a dirty, tiresome work, it sure worth the effort a hundredfold. At least, that was what he believed…

As he peered over the edge of the cliff with his ruby-red eyes, he glimpsed the rather small, abandoned nest dug in the hard surface of the cave floor. A single egg sat in the middle, surrounded by broken eggshells and shiny gemstones scattered everywhere in untidy heaps. He let out an irritated sound at the discovery.

"Am I late from the feast?" He walked closer to the egg, confirming that the mother was indeed away somewhere, and his annoyance was only increased as he found his paws touching something sticky flowing out from the broken eggshells.

"Tsk, what a filthy, disgusting place," he remarked dismissively. "Makes me lose my appetite." His front paw kicked at something round, which rolled away further inside the cave.

"But since I took the trouble to climb all the way up here, I might as well claim my reward." He couldn't leave that one egg, however small a thing it was compared to the hunger gnawing at his insides. He eyed the egg a bit dubiously, tapping his claws on the hard surface of the shell.

"I do wonder how you taste, egg. I only hope you're not a bad one." He prepared his scythe to open up the dragon-egg with a swift slash. "Stay still, so I can make a clean cut," he told the egg in a deadly voice. It was probably in his predator-blood that he liked to play with his meal, even if it was only a helpless, defenceless egg, with zero probability of growing legs and trying to run away.

But as he was about to bring down his scythe, there came an ear-splitting roar from within the forest, and even over the loud noise, his sharp ears could pick up the sound of heavy iron hoofs thumping against the earthy ground.

"What, now? Those damn Explorers again?" He went back to the edge of the cliff to take a closer look. His surroundings suddenly became animated. Birds took flight towards the dusky sky. Grazing deer scattered in alarm.

"One can't even enjoy his meal without being disturbed by those fools. Why can't they just sit still on their asses, behind the safe walls of their toy fortress?"

He looked down on the horsemen with scornful eyes. Even though the sight of them filled him with loathing, he couldn't help being intrigued by those strange creatures. They bore a pair of wings on their backs, the one black, the other white. And even though he hated them with his whole being, in the end, curiosity always got the better of him. He had to see the pathetic efforts of those foolish creatures with his own two eyes.

Each time, it served as a reminder that even if a legion of those humans were to come out into their territory, his kind always proved to be the strongest. Those who lived outside in the wild wouldn't succumb to humans ever again. And the giant monsters were on their side…

Another roar rang out in the forest.

"Well, this should be interesting." He peered back over his shoulder at the lonesome egg in the nest. "I need to bring some snack."

He fetched up the egg in one clawed paw, careful not to crush it, and sprang from the cliff. Even with a fragile egg to carry, he could afford himself to be reckless, since his luck had never failed him before. He was falling through the dense foliage below, his scythe slashing against the leaves and twigs. With a graceful motion, he landed on a branch, just overlooking a spacious clearing.

"Great. We've got front seat for this entertainment," he observed, checking whether the egg was still in one piece. It was. Having confirmed that, he turned his eyes back at the scene below. "I hope at least this time those fools won't bore me to death."

The horsemen approached the clearing, mounted on their iron-clad horses and wearing strange equipment. At their feet, an army of smaller creatures scattered in a neat formation.

"I see. So they came up with something new," he observed with growing interest. He had to admit that humans were rather creative in their ways of using his kind for their own selfish purposes. As for himself, he would never side with humans, either of his own will, or by letting himself be captured. He treasured his freedom more than anything else, even if it was one of a starving beast.

He threw a hungry glance at the egg in his paw. No, not just yet. Things were getting interesting down below, and he wouldn't miss that, not even for a taste of a dragon's egg. He turned his gaze back at the battlefield.

'Retain the formation!' he heard the shouts of the men, although he couldn't understand their words. 'A single target is approaching!'

From among the woods, a giant dragon was coming out to meet the intruders. He recognised the dragon as the owner of the nest he had just robbed of its most precious treasure, and seeing the raging monster, he felt immensely relieved that he hadn't been caught red-handed, for the creature was indeed huge and fearsome-looking, with its dark blue skin, red chest and yellow belly, and a huge jaw full of sharp fangs.

The dragon let out an earth-shattering roar from its enormous, fanged mouth. Some of the smaller creatures of the Explorers scattered in alarm, others charged forward, unaffected by the sound. On command, the horsemen sent out great orbs, one half white, the other red, which began rolling on the ground towards the giant dragon, letting out an ear-splitting screech as they did so.

Some of the men sprang from their horses and flew to the air, even though they didn't have proper wings, but a pair of plates on their back. They remained afloat, attempting to distract the giant dragon's attention from the operation of the smaller creatures on the ground. But there might have been some fault with their equipment, or they just went carelessly close to the thrashing dragon, for quite a few of those reckless humans ended up in the huge jaws, and the enormous yellow belly.

"However I look at it, devouring or being devoured, it's always an ugly sight," he remarked with evident disgust. "But at least they have some guts to fight, even against the odds, huh."

However, things soon seemed to turn around. While the giant monster was distracted by its human-meal, the tamed creatures on the ground surrounded it in a tight circle, waiting for command.

'_Charge Beam!_' a shout came, and sparks flew in the air as the giant monster was stabbed from all sides with beams of electricity, immobilizing it. Yet, the dragon was still fighting, and the sound of its roars echoed far in the forest. But even if it managed to get an attack through its paralysis, it did little damage to the creatures or the horsemen on the ground, for they were protected by some strange walls of light.

'_Self-Destruct!_' came the command, and the orbs on the ground exploded simultaneously with a loud noise.

When the cloud of smoke somewhat dissipated he could see the terrible havoc it had caused. The dragon's skin was badly damaged, and it was barely standing. One of its legs seemed to be broken. Yet, it was unwilling to give up, and he found its will to fight something fascinating.

It was also a miracle that the Explorers' companion creatures didn't seem to be hurt much by the explosions. They seemed to be sturdy little monsters, even though they were small. He looked upon them with a mixture of admiration and loathing. How could they side with the humans? How could they obey them, like well-trained puppies?

It soon became evident that the battle had come to an end. The remaining humans in the air threw smaller orbs at the dragon, and after a few tries, a harsh, reddish light engulfed the raging monster, and it disappeared from sight, only its roars still echoing in the forest.

"There goes your Mama, egg," he remarked without the least sympathy in his voice. "Well, I guess it's better that way. At least I won't have any regrets when I eat you."

He turned his back on the humans, who withdrew their creatures and were riding back to their fortress. He was heading towards the safety of his den, too, to enjoy his well-earned meal.

But hardly did he arrive at the entrance of his secret hideout, when the egg rolled out of his grasp, as if having an own will. As if being alive.

He had never seen one of his kind hatching before, so he looked on with a mixture of curiosity and dismay as his supposed meal became engulfed in a warm, gentle light. The dragon-egg began softly pulsating, and soon, cracks appeared on the surface of the shell. It quite surprised him when the egg released a harsh, blinding light, which was gone almost in an instant. He had to blink a couple of times to regain the clarity of his vision, only then did he venture to take a closer look at the contents. And he wasn't the least impressed by the sight.

"So, this is what my super luck brought me today, huh," he said dismissively. "I thought I've fetched myself some rare delicacy, and what do I get? A filthy brat. Hardly edible."

The young hatchling looked back at him with a pair of big, shiny dark eyes. But bigger was the mouth, lined with sharp teeth, and he didn't like that the least.

"Mama?" the hatchling spoke, looking at him expectantly.

"Like hell," he burst out indignantly. What a ridiculous idea that was from that dragon-hatchling, confusing him with its own species. The two of them were nowhere the same type, not even distant cousins. He was a creature of the night, dark and mysterious. Whenever he let the humans catch a glimpse of him, he noticed with satisfaction the way they shrank away from him, without exception. He was even feared by his own kind. But somehow he just failed to scare that one newborn dragon.

"Papa?" the hatchling asked, now appearing a bit confused.

"Guess again," he told the young one. But even as his tone was harsh, his soft side began to resurface as he looked down on the helpless young creature, whose elder brothers and sisters scattered all over the forest, and whose only parent was taken by those greedy, unfeeling creatures. The ones who called themselves 'humans', and deemed his own kind 'monsters'.

"Brother?" the young one took another, timid guess.

"Well, that sounds better, I guess," he said, giving in to his soft side. "Maybe I'll keep you as a pet."

The hatchling gave a relieved cry.

"But first, let's clean you up. I won't share my den with a filthy brat like you."

He began walking away, the newborn following him with uncertain steps, falling forward every once in a while and getting up with much difficulty.

"Your face is ridiculously large, and you have stumpy little limbs," he observed, looking behind his shoulder, watching the clumsy efforts of the hatchling with a hint of intrigue. Nevertheless, he slowed down his pace, allowing the young one to catch up with him more easily.

"I guess that's why you keep falling on your face. I wonder whether it hurts much." As he said that, they arrived at a clearing with a spring, and the hatchling splashed right into the sparkling surface, flailing in the shallow water.

He heaved a tired sigh before saying, "Watch carefully, brat. I'm going to teach you how to wash yourself properly."

The young one looked back at him attentively, but soon he had to realize that it just wouldn't work.

"I guess you can't do much with that stumpy little hand of yours," he said, deciding to take the matter of cleaning into his own expert paws. Using a piece of rough moss as sponge, he began scrubbing the dragon-hatchling. But rougher was the skin, and soon he found that his paws hurt rather badly by touching it. Still, he ignored the pain, and went on cleaning.

"So, are you a boy, or are you a girl?" he inquired, splashing water all over the young one to rinse the pieces of moss and dirt.

"Boy," the dragon-hatchling replied.

"Well, I guess there's no point in asking for your name, since you've only just hatched," he mused, remembering that it was the habit of humans to give names to living things to call them by.

He set to clean his own fur, shaking off pieces of leaf and twig before immersing himself in the crystal-clear water of the spring, all the while keeping a sharp eye on the dragon-hatchling, noticing that it was jumping dangerously from rock to rock in the spring.

"Be careful, you silly brat," he warned him sharply, to which the young one slipped on the smooth wet surface of the rock, and splashed into the shallow of the water again. Yet, he didn't seem to hurt himself, for he was back on his small feet in an instant, this time chasing after a colourful butterfly.

"Wings!" the hatchling cried, his voice full of awe.

"Yeah, wings. Where are your wings, brat?" he asked, eyeing the dragon-hatchling, but not seeing anything like wings, only a large fin protruding from the head.

"Where are _your_ wings?" the young one questioned back.

"Insolent, aren't we," he said, finding that he quite liked the hatchling. "I'm still growing them," he answered the dragon's earlier question, then turned to look at the tree standing beside the spring, its branches hanging with ripe berries.

"I hope you're a vegetarian, brat, or you shall starve in my company. I'm more like a gatherer than a hunter." He glanced back to see the young dragon diving into the deeper part of the water. He did not sink, though, for those things at the sides of his head kept him afloat as he was catching small fish with his big mouth.

"Well, at least you're resourceful," he remarked somewhat appreciatively, shaking his wet fur and standing at a patch of grass which was still faintly illuminated by the last lights of the setting sun.

His young companion tottered out of the spring, opening his mouth and scattering fish and water just before his paws.

"Careful, brat," he said, retreating a few steps. "I'm trying to dry myself here."

"Brother, eat," the dragon-hatchling called in his high-pitched voice.

He eyed the flailing fish on the grass with evident disgust. They weren't talking, but they were alive, and seemed to have a face, so he had no heart to taste them.

"I never eat… meat," he said, finally admitting to himself that he was one strictly herbivorous, enjoying the occasional raw egg, but nothing that was flesh and blood and bones, and in his eyes that applied to fish, too.

The dragon-hatchling looked back at him a bit disappointed, then set to feasting on the fish without further concern.

"Ugh, I shall have to teach you some table-manners, brat," he said with disgust. But even so, he was so hungry he couldn't allow himself to lose his appetite even to a sight so unpleasant to his eyes. He sprang up swiftly and cut some fruits from the tree with his scythe, and began eating them in silence, and with considerably better manners than his young companion.

When he noticed that the dragon-hatchling was looking at him with a drooling mouth, having finished all the fish, he offered him some of the fruit, which he gladly accepted.

"Tasty," the young one said contently.

"Yeah, but it's going to be troublesome if you eat so much," he remarked, already thinking ahead of how he would feed one with such a huge appetite.

"Don't eat, don't grow," the dragon remarked, pecking up the berries with its huge mouth, then adding with a full mouth, "Remain small, like you."

His ruby-red eyes flashed in indignation at such an insult.

"Well, you damn brat, let me remind you that I'm still way bigger than you," he said, stretching to his full height and towering over the hatchling ominously.

"Not for long," the dragon-hatchling chirped, completely unfazed by his intimidating leer.

That was a problem, too. Raising a dragon promised to be a lot of trouble. And he wasn't sure whether he was up to the task. He had never shared companionship with anyone before, being solitary by nature. Yet, he found he was curious to see how things would turn out. He could keep that rare creature as a pet, and should he ever turn against him, he trusted his skills and super luck to allow him to slice the dragon up to pieces with his scythe, before he could devour him. That sounded like a plan, even if it was a dangerous gamble. Luck had never left his side up to that day, so he made his choice, and hoped not to regret.

"Let's go home, brat," he told the young dragon, seeing that the last rays of the sunlight had faded, leaving the forest in a gloom. As a nocturnal being, he knew first-hand how dangerous a forest could be at night, especially for the young and inexperienced.

"But first, back to the bath," he told his new pet strictly, seeing that he was dripping with sticky berry juice, and covered with some remaining pieces of fish.

The dragon skipped towards the spring again merrily, splashing the water all over as he tried to use his small arms to bathe.

"Good. At least you seem to like water," he said, somewhat relieved at the discovery. Yet, he wondered about the strange behaviour of his new pet. He had never seen such species of dragons, who usually preferred mountain crags and sandy plains, appear anywhere near the water. But then again, there was always an odd-one-out in a nest. Maybe in that respect, the two of them were alike.

"Not an early bird, either," he remarked, thinking about how it had been a miracle that the young dragon had ever hatched, being the last one remaining in the nest.

Even as he watched the happily bathing dragon-hatchling, for a reason unknown to him, he suddenly felt sad. Maybe it was one of his forebodings he usually got. Or maybe he was just tired, even though the night, his time, was only just beginning.

"Water-time is over, brat," he called to the young dragon, who came to him obediently.

"Good," he remarked to himself. "Easy to tame."

He noticed that his new pet tottered with rather slow, uncertain steps, his bright eyes slowly closing, then fluttering open again.

"Guess it's bed-time, then," he said, lowering himself towards the ground a bit. "You may ride on my back, since you're clean again, but no plucking my fur or drooling over it, got that?"

The young dragon nodded, either as a reply, or out of sleepiness, then climbed up on his back a bit clumsily.

"You're heavy, brat," he said, deciding not to complain about the strands of fur he had lost while the dragon fumbled onto his back. He steered his steps towards his secret hideout again, but as he walked with the sleepy dragon-hatchling on his back, he could feel even through his thick fur the small, stinging pain the touch of the dragon's skin caused him. He would have to get used to that, too.

"Off to the dream world, you little brat," he said, carefully lowering his precious pet on the bed of fresh leaves. The young dragon rolled over, and was fast asleep in an instant. Looking at the small, sleeping figure, he found himself overcome by drowsiness, too, even though he was supposed to be a nocturnal being.

He curled up some distance away from his new companion, and for the first time in his life, he went to sleep with the sun, and slept through the night. And that night, he had the strangest and most terrifying dream he had ever seen. In his dream, he was not himself, but one of _them_.

A human.

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**Next Chapter**

The talent of the reputed Forest Fashioner is unchallenged. With a few snips and snaps and stitches, she can make clothes for creatures of all shapes and sizes. But when she takes upon herself the task of binding ties through clothing, she soon finds herself confronted with a couple of difficulties. Can she soften the rough dragon's skin? Can she make clothing to protect the delicate white fur?

**Cut To Shape And Fit To Size**

**The Forest Fashioner & The Difficult Customers**

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**End Notes: **Thank you very much for reading this! ;)**  
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